The moment Ryoma was sucked into Laboon's mouth, the surrounding world instantly plunged into absolute darkness and chaos.
Salty seawater, mixed with some viscous fluid, formed a massive vortex, dragging Ryoma relentlessly toward the unknown depths.
He did not resist this force. He merely condensed a thin layer of ice film on his body surface to isolate the viscous fluid, allowing himself to be swept along by the rapid current, rushing through a winding passage.
After an unknown amount of time, his vision suddenly brightened.
Splash!
Water splashed everywhere, and Ryoma emerged from the current, his feet lightly landing on a sheet of ice he had just generated with his magic, stabilizing himself.
He raised his eyes and looked around. Even though he was mentally prepared, he was still slightly startled by the sight before him.
Above him was a seemingly boundless expanse of blue sky and white clouds, sunny and peaceful. It was impossible to tell that this was inside the belly of a giant whale.
Not far from his feet was a small island, featuring a beach hut with a distinctly tropical flavor.
The area beyond that island was an ocean constantly churning with green foam... that was undoubtedly Laboon's stomach acid.
'This really is a secluded paradise.'
The moment this thought flashed through Ryoma's mind, a sharp whistling sound attacked him without warning from the rear-side, swift as lightning. He didn't even turn around, his body's combat instinct drove him to shift half a step to the left.
A huge harpoon, flashing with cold metallic light, slammed into the ice surface behind him, barely grazing his nose.
Clang!
Ice shards exploded, the fork blade embedded deep into the ice layer, and the thick iron chain attached to the tail was still humming at a high frequency.
What a fast attack!
Ryoma's heart tightened, and he slowly turned around to look in the direction the attack had come from.
He saw a tall old man standing at the entrance of the hut. His hair was uniquely styled, like a blooming purple flower. He was bare-chested, and the muscle definition beneath his skin was clear and full of power.
The old man was holding a huge harpoon gun, and a faint wisp of smoke was rising from its dark muzzle.
"Who are you?"
The old man spoke, his voice deep and carrying a hint of weariness.
"Sneaking in here suspiciously, what do you want?"
He was Crocus, the lighthouse keeper of Twin Capes, and formerly the pirate king's Ship Doctor.
Ryoma calmly observed the man, showing no tension or anger after being attacked. He even had the leisure to brush off non-existent dust from his coat hem, his movements unhurried.
"I'm just a lost traveler who wanted to come in and ask for directions."
"Ask for directions?"
Crocus clearly didn't believe this nonsense. He snorted disdainfully, quickly reloading the harpoon gun, which made a crisp mechanical sound.
"Entering through a whale's mouth to ask for directions? Do you take me for a three-year-old, kid?"
At this lawless entrance to the Grand Line, he had seen more pirates than Ryoma had eaten salt. He was already tired of all the strange characters and unbelievable excuses.
Although the young man in front of him did not look like an atrocious villain, the fact that he could break in using such an incredible method proved his extraordinary nature.
Ryoma spread his hands, showing a rather helpless expression. "Alright, I admit my method is a bit special."
He took two steps forward and stopped about ten meters away from Crocus. This distance both conveyed goodwill and maintained sufficient reaction space.
"I heard that a legendary Ship Doctor lives here, one who once sailed the entire ocean with a certain pirate crew."
Ryoma's words were calm, yet they caused a subtle, almost imperceptible pause in Crocus's action of reloading the ammunition.
He narrowed his eyes, re-examining the uninvited guest.
This kid... knows my identity?
Aside from a very few individuals, this information hadn't been mentioned for a very long time.
Ryoma ignored Crocus's astonishment and continued speaking at his unhurried pace, "I want to ask the legendary man a few questions, and also... request an Eternal Pose."
"Legendary? I'm just a rotten old man."
Crocus snorted, resting the reloaded harpoon gun on his shoulder, though his hand remained near the trigger.
"As for the Eternal Pose, I don't have anything like that here. That passage over there leads out, go on your way."
He lifted his chin, pointing to an exceptionally large, circular iron door embedded in the stomach wall in the distance.
This was a clear rejection.
Ryoma wasn't surprised by this. It wasn't easy to obtain favors readily from a living legend like this. He wasn't like Luffy, who naturally possessed the overbearing aura capable of influencing others.
He was about to try a different approach. Perhaps showing off a little strength or using some information as leverage, when...
BOOM!!!
A deafening crash came from above without any warning.
Immediately afterward, the entire internal space began to shake violently.
The "small island" beneath Ryoma's feet shook fiercely, and the surrounding "ocean" of green stomach acid churned into monstrous waves, slamming against the edges and producing a "sizzling" corrosive sound.
"Tch, it's starting again."
A trace of irritation and worry flashed across Crocus's face, and he no longer paid attention to confronting Ryoma.
"I almost delayed the main business."
He cursed under his breath, turned, and rushed into the hut. Moments later, he dashed out carrying a ridiculously huge metal syringe, hurrying off in a certain direction.
Ryoma watched his retreating figure, thought for a moment, and then followed suit. He was well aware of Crocus's objective and was also filled with curiosity about the strange structure inside the whale's belly.
Following Crocus, he passed through passages constructed of steel.
Ryoma realized that the whale's interior had been transformed into a semi-mechanical fortress, with sturdy iron passages running through the pink fleshy tissue.
Ryoma couldn't help but inwardly complain, 'Flesh is weak, mechanical ascension is the way.'
Crocus is not only a top-tier Ship Doctor but also a master in the field of biological modification.
The two, one after the other, soon arrived at a wide platform.
Crocus skillfully climbed onto an operating platform, aimed the giant syringe at a section of pink, constantly writhing flesh wall in front of him, and forcefully slammed the plunger down.
Squelch!
The enormous needle pierced the flesh wall, and the sedative inside the syringe was completely injected.
As the medication was fully injected, the sensation of impact gradually weakened, and the previously turbulent stomach slowly calmed down.
Crocus let out a long breath, pulled out the syringe, and wiped the sweat from his forehead with the back of his hand.
He glanced at Ryoma, who had quietly followed him the whole time without any malicious actions, and his high level of vigilance finally relaxed somewhat.
Perhaps the daily solitude and exhaustion required an outlet for expression, or perhaps he genuinely felt that the young man before him held no malice.
After a moment of silence, Crocus spoke first, "Over forty years ago, I promised a group of guys who were leaving here that I would look after this whale, Laboon, who was very young at the time."
His words carried distant memories. "They were the Rumbar Pirates, a group of music lovers. They promised Laboon that after sailing around the Grand Line, they would return via Reverse Mountain to pick him up. But they never came back."
Crocus's voice became low. He pulled a cigarette from his pocket, lit it, and took a deep puff.
"I told Laboon the news of the Rumbar Pirates' escape, but he didn't believe it."
"...In short, ever since then, he has been crying sadly toward Reverse Mountain and continuously crashing into the Red Line, trying to smash open that mountain to find his comrades."
Crocus exhaled a thick smoke ring, the smoke blurring his face, which was etched with the marks of time.
"He's been crashing for decades."